Linh is a spy. She is a talented spy. With the right computer implants, she can work undercover almost anywhere. She’s part of an all-star team of lesbians, equipped with weapons of mass seduction, experts at honeypot stings.
But when Linh’s boss puts her on a plane to Neo-Tokyo, Linh’s skills are stretched to the limit. Her orders are to infiltrate the Nakagami Institute for Futanari Research—and steal Japan’s amazing yet secretive and absolutely filthy futanari technology!
Preview after the jump…
Linh meets her first futanari, a stewardess on Trans-Nippon Airlines. She meets her second at the airport in Neo-Tokyo. But once she enters the Institute, her AI goes ballistic, her cover is blown, and she’s dragged off to meet Dr. Nakagami, the most notoriously well-endowed futa in all of Japan!
Welcome to a 15,000-word epic of erotic sci-fi, full of futanari, smutpunk, futa, rogue AI, even more futa, and sex, sex, sex, sex, sex!
The stewardess slipped back into the airplane lavatory, flushed but happy.
“I’m sorry I don’t have much time,” she said. She reached for Linh’s hand. “The first-class cabin must receive an excellent, award-winning meal in twenty minutes. What are your questions or concerns about a futanari?”
“I—I have never seen a futanari body, close at hand. Only in the promotional material and media.”
The stewardess grinned with enthusiasm. “If it does not shock or offend you, I will show you in a straightforward manner.”
“Please do,” Linh said, moving to the toilet, the only seat available in the narrow lavatory. Her chrome dildo flopped from hand to hand, a nervous mannerism.
“Watch with care and interest,” she said, lifting the front of her Trans-Nippon Airlines miniskirt. Beneath, she wore a tight pair of white cotton panties, adorned with little purple ribbons and the TNA logo.
But unlike the panties of the other stewardesses, Yui’s sported a distinct and unmistakable bulge. The cylindrical shape pointed straight up above two smaller, rounder lumps. Judging from its size, Yui was either well-endowed or aroused—or both.
Comment: When you write erotica, you write to a schedule. You don’t always get to wait around for inspiration. But sometimes you get lucky. Sometimes the story is just so fucking awesome that you walk away from the keyboard, thinking, “Damn, I wish I wrote that.” Then you realize that you did.